


Let's Call It a Start

by xreyskywalkersolo



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Gen, I'm back on my bullshit guys, damn brenda strong's acting, this show sucked me back in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 13:12:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13548048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xreyskywalkersolo/pseuds/xreyskywalkersolo
Summary: Lillian has always loved her daughter. She's just....not the best at showing it. Takes place post 3x12.





	Let's Call It a Start

**Author's Note:**

  * For [littlelamplight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlelamplight/gifts).



> For littlelamplight, who loves Lillian more than anyone I've met.

You love your daughter. You always have, but it’s….complicated. It’s difficult to forget what Lionel did to you, and she’s a living reminder. She looks more like her mother than her father, with her green eyes and dark wavy hair, but people have always said the sharp jawline and sloping cheekbones could have come from you.

Some days, you wish they had.

It’s only natural to want to keep her safe. You lost your son to his own pride and hotheaded foolishness, and you will not lose your daughter because she refuses to embrace who she is. What she is. 

Lex had the right idea, but his execution was all wrong. Rushed and sloppy for one, and outlandish for another. He should have known better than to expose himself; should have stayed behind the scenes, manipulating and planning but never outright acting. You wonder how he could have been so foolish.

Then again, you’re no fool yourself. You know his mind fragmented in those last weeks and months, that his grip on reality and sanity slipped away. It’s the only explanation for his behavior. For all your talk about how Lena has never been worthy of her surname, she is more a Luthor than her brother ever was.

You’re proud of her for it. You just wish she was too.

It hurts, the way she looks at you, sometimes. The way disgust and anger curl her lip, the sheen of hurt glittering in cold green eyes when she speaks, the way her shoulders tense and curl high, like she expects you to strike her. Lionel was the one who came to blows with his children, and even then, it was only with Lex. He never would have laid a hand on Lena; she was his princess, his pride and joy. 

You tried not to read too much into it, that he preferred the child that doesn’t carry your genes.

In some ways, though, you’re glad for it. You tried to push Lena, tried to make her better, stronger, ready for the pain the world would inevitably throw at her. You wanted to thicken her shell, to teach her to let barbs roll off her back, to take the sharp dagger of others’ words and turn it back on them. You never gave her the love and approval she needed from you because it was too hard, too painful, to love this girl who is proof that the person you loved the most betrayed you.

And somehow, you never realized what it did to her until the Daxamite invasion. Until you walked into her office and she shouted at you, until she laid her pain bare in front of you with a sort of desperate bitterness that took your breath away.

_“What you taught me was to doubt myself. To look for validation elsewhere, so much so that I was willing to take it from the first mentor that offered it to me.” She slants you a look, a cutting thing that would make you proud if it were directed at anyone else, and you remember suddenly how very young she is. For all Lena’s poise, for all her maturity and cunning, she’s only twenty-four years old. Barely older than you were when you married._

_The thought of Rhea offering the ruse of friendship and approval makes your stomach turn. It’s even worse when you realize you’ve done the exact same thing, using your own child as a means to an end._

_It’s the first time you’ve ever disgusted yourself._

That was when everything changed for you. You had to flee the city, but you kept an eye on the news, kept an ear out for anything concerning Lena. And then you found out that Morgan Edge had tried to kill her, and you’d vowed to choose Lena over your own safety this time. You came back with the intent of putting him down forever to keep your daughter safe.

And somehow it still hadn’t seemed to change anything.

“I don’t understand you.” You break the silence for the first time since Lena arrived, lifting your eyes to hers. “I didn’t do enough for you at first. I didn’t choose you. And you told me it hurt you. So then I came back. I chose you. And somehow it still didn’t change anything.”

She sighs, and you think you detect a slight roll of her eyes. “You tried to murder someone, Mother.”

“He was threatening you, Lena! It’s not like I attempted to kill some random do-good citizen.” Not that it hasn’t crossed your mind every now and then. “I did it for _you_.”

“Mother.” Lena blows out a breath, lifting her fingers to her temples, and she looks like her brother with her jaw set like that. “You can’t just kill people who threaten me.”

You scoff. “I most certainly can. Or I could if you and your alien friends would stop interfering.”

“This can’t be how it is with us.” Lena drops her hands and looks at you, and you’re struck by the look in her eyes, something between exasperation and pleading. “You can’t just…..show up, tell me you love me, offer to kill someone to prove it and then get yourself arrested. Or vanish. That’s not what I want.”

You throw your hands up, or at least as much as you can with the shackles. “Then what do you want from me??”  
  
“I want you to love me like you loved Lex!” The outburst startles you both. You see Lena’s eyes widen, but she keeps talking. “You never told him he wasn’t a real Luthor, you never made him feel like he had to prove anything to you! Whatever he did was good enough; not like me! I had to try so _hard_ just to get you to even acknowledge—” Lena breaks off with a soft laugh, a cold, mirthless thing, and her eyes are overbright as she shakes her head. “Why do I bother? You’ll never change. You only compliment me when you want something.”

It hurts, what she’s saying, but the worst part is that it’s all true. You sit in silence, letting the words sink into your skin, and you are not familiar with failure—you’ve never allowed yourself to be—but it hits you suddenly just how badly you’ve failed your daughter. Your throat closes abruptly, and you look away, turning your gaze back toward your lap. You hear Lena snort bitterly, and there is the sound of her chair scraping across the floor. “I don’t know what I expected from you.”

Your head snaps up, and panic clutches you as you see that she’s on her feet. She’s going to leave. You have to call out to her, something, anything, but the words stick in your throat. All you can do is watch helplessly as she starts to walk away.

You’re losing her all over again.

“Lena!” You surge out of your chair, ignoring the way the guard moves over to restrain you as the chain that binds you to the table snaps taut. Lena turns sharply on her heel, a look of shock on her face, and you think you see a hint of fear in her face as she snaps at the guard. 

“Let her go!” Lena orders, and he obeys after a brief pause. You glare at him as he backs off before turning your gaze back to your daughter, who’s looking at you with a mixture of fear and hope. You swallow a few times, trying to swallow down the lump in your throat. “I’m trying,” you manage at last, and you hope that she knows you’re being more sincere right now than you have been in years. “I’m……I’m trying.”

She stares at you for a long moment, and the hard pinch of her brow softens minutely. “I know,” Lena says at last, and you’re not sure she’s ever spoken to you that gently. “I know.”

It’s not much. It’s barely anything at all. But it feels like something.

You think you could call it a start.

 


End file.
